


5 People a day makes something they say

by Aaron_Royal



Series: Rebel Adventures [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series), Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, M/M, Silivo is actually Vero's son in this, Some good old music mentions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:42:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27070660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aaron_Royal/pseuds/Aaron_Royal
Summary: After a political incident, Virgil takes it upon himself for some petty revenge. The other girls are all for it.
Relationships: Allura/James Griffin (Voltron), James Griffin/Pidge | Katie Holt, James Griffin/Veronica (Voltron), Virgil/James Griffon
Series: Rebel Adventures [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1975729
Kudos: 2





	5 People a day makes something they say

**Author's Note:**

> This is from a charity zine that is no longer out. Publishing it two months after it's over, late like always.

Virgil was young. Younger than any, and an isolationist on top of it. He interacted with two groups. His fans on Tumblr, and his brother. The papers, 5 different papers from 5 different countries laid on an old, dark cherry wood desk. He wasn’t quite 20 yet. Raven hair splayed with sweat as he sat down against the wall. 

In front of him was a paper. There were lines all across, not just because it was loose-leaf. The handwriting was messy, maddening, and anyone who didn’t know the system would be lost. Little numbers were everywhere and to the side of the margin a checklist with the numbers. His face was dried, splotchy, and the paper was crinkled, as though someone had been crying. The papers, all five, held the same front-page headline in five different languages.

“James T. Griffon, Senator of Gulf, Altea, has admitted to an act of Polygamy with 4 of the world’s celebs after being spotted at a private wedding with Rising Singer Virgil Abernathy!” Beneath each one, was a picture of Virgil from 9 days ago. Sleek black suit, red undershirt, violet tie. Next to him stood a man with chestnut hair and steel grey eyes, White suit, orange button-up, grey tie. Their colors. 

Virgil felt everything, and nothing all at once. He wanted to pick up that paper, call his brother and ask him to patch him into the Holt Siblings so he could cash in a favor. He wouldn’t do that though, not that he could. Right after the wedding, Akira and the rebels went back underground. It could be months before he’d hear from any of them again. 

On the first floor of the modest home, at the front door, hesitant, stood a large African-American male, although they no longer went under such a title. The wind brustled through his dreads, making them rustle against his under-cut. He reached forward, a newspaper wrapped in his right hand. He hit the doorbell. 

A church bell rang through the house, and Virgil rushed to hide the newspapers and the note of words in his desk. “Just a second!” He croaked, and Virgil hoped he could blame his voice cracking as he rushed a hand through his hair, running down the stairs and into the entry-way. 

He undid the deadbolt of the mahogany door, before opening to the screen door. Seeing Jame’s manager, he quickly undid the deadbolt of the screen door and opened it up. “Mr. Kinkade, so glad to see you,” he squeaked out. 

Ryan didn’t notice as he stepped inside, following Virgil. He cleared his throat as they entered the kitchen. “Tea? Soda? I don’t keep beer here I’m afraid, as much as James enjoys it.”

Doe brown eyes looked at him guiltily. “Virgil, I’m not here because of James.” Technically he was wrong, but Virgil always seemed to be under the impression that he knew James for work only. “Please, sit down. He’s stated before that you don’t normally read the newspaper, and only have a weather app on your phone.”

Virgil nodded. “I’m not one for criticism. I’d rather not pay someone to be my social-media manager when I can do it myself.”

The larger man sighed, and Virgil finally took a seat. He stretched the paper out. “iffon also married to Dr. Gunderson, Lady Alvera, and Sergeant Colonel McClain!” was what was visible.

Virgil took it gently and opened it. He hadn’t seen this one. His eyes widened. The others hadn’t listed off anyone. This one had pictures. Three beautiful women. Three filthy rich, intelligent women. “James won’t tell you this, but I will. He admitted it in an interview in Boston yesterday. I’m not going to let him keep you in the dark when you have your own interview in two days. It’ll be the first question they ask.”

Ryan’s arms were crossed suddenly, and Virgil wanted to cry again. He was proud of himself when his voice didn’t quiver. “Why did he do it?”

Ryan shrugged. “We’ll never know. He’s about to be torn apart by 3 strong, independent women who are gonna take him for everything he has. The question is, will you?”

Virgil scoffed, rolling his eyes before pushing the paper forward. He put his head in his hands. Amethyst eyes filled with tears but he would not let them go. Virgil shook his head. “I’d rather be petty about it. Throw his shit out the window and set the place on fire or something equally as impulsive.” He could feel it in his bones, the need to react, to lash out. The need to do something like his brother or his best friend, and just go key something, take a baseball bat and knock out a few windows. 

“No one would blame you if you did. You didn’t read it all, did you?” Virgil reached forward, snatching the paper back off of the table. 

“The Ugly Truth about Senator Griffon: Love letters between Griffon and all 4 spouses!”

“HE DID WHAT!?” Ryan flinched at the ferocity in Virgil’s voice. Every letter, even minimized with the fonts taken out, had been there. From all of them. Links to type in, or in the digital he was sure to click on, were probably the documents with every letter. 

Virgil reached both hands up to run them across his face in the hopes it would wipe off the built-up tears for a moment. “Thank you, Ryan.” It was the first time Virgil had ever said his first name. 

Ryan walked over, and placed his left hand on his shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze. “Call me if you need anything. I’ll be headed back out now.” With a two-fingered salute, he walked outside, to his motorbike, and took off. 

Virgil stayed on the chair for a few minutes, processing. The tiny words, all saying the same thing. He stood up, making his way to the phone on the granite island in the kitchen, before dialing. One ring, two.

“Hey kiddo, you alright?” A sweet voice, older though, spoke. 

“Hey, Mrs. Holt. Is your husband or Matt there?” 

“We’ll be there in half an hour kiddo.” And the line went silent. He wanted to smile, knowing they were racing over. But his face stung. He needed to do something stupid. He walked up the thin staircase and entered the small office that James had claimed. His particle board desk, complete with fancy polish and paperwork everywhere, was right next to the balcony. Big mistake. 

He grabbed the desk by the edge and began to push it forward, before taking a step back. Inch long scuff-marks on the tile. He opened the door to the balcony, setting up the lock at the bottom of the door, before walking back. He grabbed the desk and shoved it through, the force of his push causing it to flip over the seal of the door and straight over the balcony, falling onto the concrete below with a satisfying crack. 

The tile was scuffed, and right in front of the seal of the door some of it got caught and tore up, where the corner had been, maybe an inch long. Virgil really wanted to go into the closet and start throwing shit out the balcony, maybe set it all on fire. He wanted to be really extra for a few minutes, but he wouldn’t. 

Instead, Virgil turned out of the room and closed the door before heading downstairs. When the Holt crew got there, Matthew walked in, brown hair glistening, and handed Virgil a list with each of their names, personal numbers, and emails. Technology truly was a wonderful terror. 

=====

Allura Alvera was currently in a precarious situation. She was on a plane, to meet her soon-to-be ex-husband’s husband, sitting next to one of the said ex’s other wives. Steel-blue eyes met oceanic hues, both very confused as to why the other was in their seat. 

Little did they know, a little further up, was one small Pidge Gunderson, tucked into her seat with her laptop on Blender, trying to test out models and seeing if parts would actually fit the way she wanted. She had started from Italy as soon as she got the word.

The two women in the back held each other's gaze. “Commander McClain, was it?” The white-haired lawyer’s voice was cold, and obviously blame filled. Allura had had two children from James, one who was going to culinary school in Boston, and the other had just started high-school. 

But Veronica? She was sitting on the outside of the Isle for a reason. Her son, soon to turn ten, sat on the outside of the next aisle. They were replicas of each other, except he obviously had James’ legs and hair. 

“Yes.” Her voice was stern. Veronica had no desire to start a conflict. When Virgil had called, he never said that the others might be coming, not that she had thought to ask. He had wanted to talk, face to face about what would come. 

Allura let out a sigh, pinching her nose for a moment. “Look, we’re all in a pretty bad situation. I’m assuming he called you as well?”

Veronica nodded, crossing her arms over her chest. Silvio looked up at his mom, questioning. She nodded towards his backpack, and he almost lit up entirely as he fished out his sketchbook. “Wait until after takeoff, before you pull anything else out, love.” He nodded but was practically buzzing in his seat. The older gentleman next to him was passed out entirely, which Veronica could only hope was for the best.

Allura watched the interaction, seeing a trust between the two that she didn’t have with either of her boys. There was the envy again, coursing through her. She would stomp it down though. “Do you suppose he called Gunderson then?” 

Veronica’s nose twitched. “Most likely. Kid probably wants to shout at us or something dramatic like that.”

Allura shook her head, white curls bouncing before she began to fiddle with the cuffs of her suit. “No, I don’t believe he will. Virgil seems to be very self-aware. He makes sure tickets are affordable but still donates most profits. A couple of my previous clients went to see him open when he was younger.”

A brown eyebrow quirked. “Kid might have talent, but that seems to make people cocky.” Veronica had lost a lot of good men to being proud of themselves. But that’s how it worked sometimes. She had accepted that.f

“I doubt he would ask us to come all the way to The Pit just to tell us what we already know.” Otherwise, it would have been an expensive trip that wasn’t worth it. 

The next three-hour flight was painfully long. Silvio had drawn an almost exact copy of the inside of the plane but had taken off the front of it, making it look as though the plane had been snapped in half and it’s occupants had remained none the wiser. It worried Allura, though Veronica believed it was simply from stress. 

All three women stepped off the plane to receive the same message once they turned airplane-mode off. “Whenever you arrive, Kolivan will be in pick up. I hope you don’t mind eerie black sedans and a Mamoran Bodyguard. He’ll take you to the label, and move your stuff into my car. Sorry about the inconvenience, I forgot I had recording today ~Virge”

===  
As the three women and Silvio entered the label, they heard music flowing.   
“Dancing, through a dream underneath the stars.” The voice was silky smooth, as they walked through the entryway. “Going, till the morning comes.” The final word was extended as the group was greeted by a man far paler than Kolivan, but of equal height. 

“Mr. Abernathy is almost done,” the man said as the voice echoed. 

“Everyone that leaves has a heavy heart. oh, Wonderland I love.” 

“Follow me.” He made his way down a hall, while there was a piano filled pause. 

“Nothing around here is quite as it seems.” They entered a small room that held three doors. 

“Not sure if anything's real or a dream.” They entered through the one to the left, which had a small room. 

“And the only thing sure from the start.” There was a pause, and Silvio looked up at all the sound equipment in awe, though he didn’t reach to touch.

“Is the song that's inside of your heart.” The sound was heartbreaking, and they all looked to the glass in union to see a boy playing piano on a gym floor. He was in a tank-top, arms and collarbone covered in scars.

“Don't let it leave.” Every word was punctuated with a pause. The piano hid the rest of him, but each of the women knew that this was Virgil Abernathy. 

“If this was a dream, then at least I’ve got.” The sound was heart-breaking, and now they could all see the emotion on his face. His eyes were closed, although there were papers on the top of the piano. 

“Memories for when morning comes.” The final word is extended, before a pause. He started to lean into the piano, and Allura couldn’t help but cover her mouth with a hand. 

“Now that I must leave with a heavy heart oh, Wonderland I love.” He took his hands off the piano and raised his arms. The man from before hit a pair of buttons, before reaching for one on the other side of the board.

“Sir, your guests are here.”

“Shit, already Ulaz?”

“Please refrain from cursing, there’s a child in presence.”

Violet eyes widened as Virgil stood up. “Shi- fu- mother of god,” he said as he tripped and landed on the floor. He picked up his head as he sprawled out. “Just leave me here for a few minutes. Where’d you stash my shirt?” His head dropped back down. 

“It’s in the lounge.”

A groan echoed. “Of course it is.” Ulaz walked through the door, gesturing for them to follow. 

The door that was next to them opened as they went across, Virgil coming from it. “I’m so sorry ladies, I promise I’m not trying to corrupt your child,” he rushed out. 

Veronica chuckled, and Pidge seemed to be eyeing him suspiciously. However, Allura was still reeling over the fact that this boy couldn’t have been more than 20. 

Pidge beat them all to the question though. “Why did you marry him?”

His face fell. He rubbed the back of his neck precariously before they entered a comfier room. He snatched a shirt off the table, pulling it over his tank. “The same reason as the rest of you I’d assume.” 

Silvio looked between them all. “Shouldn’t you guys be talking to him nicer? He’s an angel.”

Virgil blinked, once, twice, turning red instantly. “I- I don’t- what-” and proceeded to stutter. 

Veronica turned to her son and laughed after a moment. “He means your scars.”

A pale hand immediately went to his arms. “But that doesn’t mean that I’m a-a.”

“Uncle Lance says people with scars like those are angels who want to go back home.” With every word, Virgil visibly turned even redder. 

Pidge started clapping her hands. “Alright. We get it. You are adorable.” She clapped with every syllable. She met Virgil’s eyes. “You really shouldn’t be so embarrassed. Aren’t you some pop star?”

Violet eyes widened. She looked a lot like her brother, but he didn’t say anything. The two hadn’t seen each other in years. Virgil sighed and gestured for them to sit down. “I’m not a star, and I don’t have a genre. Besides, the stage is different. It’s..” he paused for a second. “On stage is safer.” 

“So?” Eyes went up to Allura. She turned to Virgil. “Why did you ask us all to come here?”

He plopped down on one of the couches, away from them. “I’m assuming all of us are about to go through a divorce. Correct me if I’m wrong.” All women nodded, and Silvio just watched and listened from next to Veronica. “How do you all feel about getting petty about it?” He suddenly bore a mischievous grin.

“Whatever you have planned? I’m in.” Pidge’s response was instantaneous. So were the others. 

He reached into a drawer that was built into the coffee table between them, before pulling out 4 papers. “I know you’re probably not all theater nerds, but you will probably recognize the beat from the Hamilton Soundtrack, it’s just a modified version.” He passed out the papers and waited for their opinions in edgy anxiety. 

===

By the end of the night, they were all at the mansion. They were slowly going through the house, pulling clothes of James’ out of the closet and shoving them in boxes, Virgil carrying the boxes into a large 9 seat Caddilac. 

“HEY!” Pidge shouted to him from the second floor. “DO YOU THINK GOODWILL TAKES LINGERIE?” She dropped a pair of deep green stockings, and Virgil groaned. 

“I can’t believe he actually bought these. WHY DON’T WE KEEP THEM FOR BLACKMAIL! THE MAN KEEPS ALL HIS RECEIPTS IN ONE PLACE SO-” He started before Veronica walked out. Her eyes widened, and she just fell onto the ground. 

“I have- The same god damn pair, in my bedroom-” she cackled. 

===

In the morning, when Allura came out, she followed the smell of coffee downstairs, to see Virgil, muscle tank and a cup of coffee sitting next to him, doing crunches while playing some sort of video game upside down, Silvio playing next to him on a split-screen.

“That is so unfair, how are you doing that?” Silvio whined next to him. 

“My brother and I both got so used to each other’s tactics that we had to switch things up a bit. I just got used to doing it like this,” he said with a shrug. His raven hair was obviously unbrushed for the morning, but the light reflecting off of it showed violet highlights.

Dr. Gunderson stepped into the living room, hair brushed, with a cup of coffee in her hands before plopping on the ground next to Virgil in shorts. “I’m up against winner.”

Virgil gave a white-toothed grin, before she noticed on the screen one of them being electrocuted. “DID YOU JUST HIT ME WITH ONE OF THOSE THINGS?” Silvio shouted as Virgil passed the finish line. 

“Yep.” 

Silvio begrudgingly handed Dr. Gunderson the white Xbox remote. “I can’t believe you still have Crash NitroCart up and running.”

He shrugged. “You wanna do cup or random races? Allura, I don’t have a french press, just a Keurig. ” Maybe, he was an okay kid after all. 

==

When Veronica came down the stairs, she could smell sweet potatoes. As she opened the door to the kitchen, her son was at the table playing with some sort of beads. “I hope you don’t mind. I keep a stash of them to mess with myself, so I figured water beads were okay?”

She nodded. “That’s fine, he used to use them in his Occupational Therapy stuff. Do I smell Boniato con mojo?”

Virgil nodded, his hair in a short pony-tail. “That, or the Gratin dop, dap, dauphinoise.” He snapped his fingers with a smile. “I think that’s how you say it anyway. It’s a french dish.” Virgil then lifted his boney shoulders. “Pretty sure half of what I’m making is potato, but ya know, whatever. It’s still technically a vegi. I’ve got some Bruschetta going too but in coconut oil instead of olive. I hope it tastes alright,” he said, muttering the last part to himself. 

“Where are the other two?” Veronica asked as she moved to sit down next to her son, sticking her hands in the small bowl of water beads for a moment. 

“They went to go get the stuff for Carpaccio,” Silvio answered, and Virgil chuckled as he began slicing eggplants. 

“Well when are we planning to do the song exactly Virge?” Veronica asked. She crossed her arms on the table, and leaned in, as Virgil mixed something up on the counter. 

“Oh, yeah. I have an interview for my next tour in three days, I think it’s with Ellen Futineiah? I’m always asked to do a song or two and figured we could do it then. You KNOW she’ll ask about what happened, so. “ he shrugged before dropping a slice of eggplant into something that she couldn’t see on the other side of the bar. 

“Do you already have the music for it done?” She asked curiously.

“I can just use the instrumental soundtrack for Hamilton. We might need to adjust to some of y’alls pitch but otherwise, I think it should be fine. “ 

“Do you think we could try my stuff real quick?”

He nodded, putting another slice inside the pan before opening a drawer and producing an iPad. “Sorry, gotta keep one everywhere.” He tapped around. “Alright, start in 3, 2, and” the music started playing. 

“Do you know what my brother said,” she started before pausing. “When he heard what you’d done? He said you’ve married an Icarus, who has flown too close to the sun.” And then she stopped, the music took a second, and then Virgil’s voice flowed through the room. He had Silvio’s attention as well.

“Don’t” he shouted for a second, a large pause. “Take another step in my direction, I can’t be trusted around you.” The words came in an onslaught, and his movements in the kitchen were quick and precise. “Don’t think you can talk your way into my arms,” he sang, and then his voice did a sharp crescendo. “Into my arms~” the last word held a strong note, and Veronica could hear the flicker of the stove as the fire was turned off. 

They both hummed along to the music through Pidge’s part, and Silvio joined in at some point. Just as Allura and Virgil’s shared lines were about to come up, both girls walked inside. As Pidge came around with some of the groceries, she shouted in horror. “ARE YOU SERIOUSLY AIR FRYING EGGPLANT PARMESAN?!” 

===  
WHen Virgil woke up the next morning, there was a warm body wrapped around him. Strong, tanned arms. “Hey, did I wake you?” Warm breath, that used to send good shivers down his spine, suddenly fueled anger. But he needed to be calm.

“No, I’m fine. WHen did you get in?”

A tanned arm slipped under his waist, as though James was trying to hold him closer against his chest then he already was. “Flight got in about an hour ago. SOme hold up about a mouse on board.”

“You sure it wasn’t another one of your wives?” Virgil sneered. James shot up, sending Virgil tumbling into the floor. He sat up and glared at the man anyway.  
`  
“Babe, why would I-”

“Don’t lie to me James, I have all of the guest bedrooms filled with wives of yours, I wouldn’t be surprised if there are others.”

“I- I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The look on his face was one he thought had once been genuine confusion. 

“How many times have you lied to me when you’ve been off to see them? Your sons,” He asked, and Virgil could feel it as he curled into himself. James’ grey eyes glimmered softly. Virgil hoped the man would cry. 

“Virgil I don’t know what you’re talking about sweetheart.” He reached forward tentatively, as though approaching a wild animal. Virgil could remember all the times that that had once comforted him, the idea that he could say no and James would have accepted it for an answer, but was that even the truth?

The one person who had gotten him and his brother out of hell had been lying the entire time. The one person other than his brother that he thought he could trust with everything. Virgil knew that sometimes he wasn’t a very good judge of character, but this felt so much worse compared to some mistakes made in the past. 

His back hit the glass of the balcony door, and he opened his eyes to see James coming towards him. But it wasn’t james exactly. The body was blurred, but it had been James before right? So that was the only explanation of who it could be. 

But as he backed away, the lines started to refine, and he could see Pidge, standing there with a worried look. “Oh, sorry, I’m fine, I just-“

She reached forward and wrapped herself around him in a tight hug. He could feel himself freeze deeply. She was a lot like Matt. Slowly he managed to return the hug. “It’ll be okay Virgil, we don’t need him.”

He nodded. While he wasn’t sure if that was true of him, he wouldn’t say anything. He had become co-dependent, he always had been. His father, his brother, and now James. But there was no one he could latch onto now. These women had families of their own, even if Pidge hadn’t spoken to Matt in years.

He felt soft fingers on his cheeks, and he nodded, reaching up to wipe away his needless tears. She took his hand and squeezed it softly. Everything just kept hurting though. But maybe they could all get through this. 

====

It was the day of the interview, finally. Virgil had texted Ellen to let her know he had some guests, and she had told him to expect something unpleasant, as much as she didn’t want to do it. He figured as much, being how she was one of few actually decent and kind interviewers.

Ulaz and his husband were both staying at the house, with Silvio, as none of them knew how the interview would go down. They had all piled into the car, Kolivan driving them. 

“This is a big city, how do you stand it here?” Pidge asked as she crossed her arms.

“It’s not that big,” Allura said, and Virgil nodded in agreement. 

Veronica shrugged her shoulders, and Pidge groaned as the group pulled up. They all saw it, but only Virgil and Kolivan knew the significance of it. In the back, right next to them, was a black and orange dodge charger. 

He took a deep breathe, and Kolivan placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. Well, as comforting as someone two feet taller than you can do. The girls all walked in behind Virgil, and Kolivan closed the door behind them. Virgil’s heart pounded, and the security guards in back asked for them to stay back when he went on stage. 

Fear was the only way to describe what he saw. Next to the blonde that he knew so well, was the man he had trusted. THat all of them had trusted. He took a deep breath. This was his palace. Under the spotlight, he was king. This was his domain, where he could stand and take everything anyone threw at him, because he had thousands of people standing beside him. 

Not just his fans either. “Hello Mr. Griffon,” He said, as he stepped into the view of the camera. “Ellie.” And today, all four of them would shine.


End file.
